


Merry Christmas, Mr. Rogers

by sashach



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky works on Wall Street, English translation, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Steve draws comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashach/pseuds/sashach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reunion of the two high school sweethearts on Christmas holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imbrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/gifts).



> A translation of [Merry Christmas, Mr. Rogers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5524727) by [Imbrian](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/pseuds/Imbrian).
> 
> Now with a sequel [Happy New Year, Mr. Barnes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5604946/chapters/12914395).

It’s unusual for a single man to live in the suburbs unless you’re a widower, but in Bucky’s opinion, a widower would move back to the city after spending a few boring years in the suburbs, especially such a young single guy.

 

The reason this issue is brought to mind is that a single man around thirty years old has moved into the empty house next to his parents’ house. All the man’s earthly possessions, including a  hound dog which his parents couldn’t identify, was brought over in a Ford truck. And just like that, man and dog moved into the neighborhood.

 

Bucky couldn’t care less. He’s sitting in the back of a cab, listening to his mother’s narration of the story, while his hands are busy typing away on his laptop. He is feeling the toll on his shoulder for cradling his iPhone between his shoulder and ear, but he would never hang up on his mother voluntarily.

 

Ever since he came out, Bucky cherishes every moment talking to his parents. They had been through a stage in which both parties had a hard time understanding one and another. His parents wondered if something had gone wrong with their parenting, while he was confused by the conservative and negative judgement of his usually open-minded parents. Luckily, his sisters had intervened, both parties compromised and they are once again one happy family.

 

“Ma, why are you telling about this man?” having finished writing and sending out his e-mails, Bucky closes his laptop and puts it back into his bag. His hand finally takes over the job of holding his phone from his tired shoulder. Now he has the time to question his mother’s motive. “… don’t tell me you’re looking out for me. A man who is living alone is not necessarily gay.”

 

“Why not? He’s well dressed, well, perhaps not as trendy as you are, but a normal man never walk his dog properly dressed. Take Mr. Lawrence for example, he wears shorts and pullover jackets when he walks Lucy, I suspects he even wore checkered boxers shorts once…”

 

Bucky wants to remind his mother that gay men are not abnormal or strange, but it’s not easy to correct your mother who went from disapproving of your sexuality to being eager to introduce boyfriends to you; she’s made great progress, he doesn’t want to push her too much. “Maybe what you said is credible…” but he does not trust his mother’s gaydar. “but he lives in the suburbs and I live in the city, there’s not much possibilities for development.”

 

“You could come back in the weekends and go fishing with your father! I’m sure taking the train is not too time consuming?” His mother sounds disappointed. “He seems like a nice guy, if you want to marry a man, I hope you marry someone like him.”

 

Actually, it’s not that he wants to marry a man, physically, he could only satisfy a man, while marrying a woman would only be a torture for both of them. “Ma, you were saying he’s unemployed five minutes ago.”

 

“But you make a lot of money…” the woman sighs, unable to hold back from explaining her thoughts. “If he’s unemployed, you could be the breadwinner, right?”

 

Bucky is not surprised with his parents’ conventional views on marriage.

 

His parents hailed from a small town in southwest Indiana and they worked hard to build an impressive business: an automobile AC fitting factory. His father later sold the company to a big company and in exchange for a house in the suburbs and some shares. After selling the shares, his parents were able to send all their four children to college, three of them even went to Ivy League schools.

 

Bucky’s mother and her family were the investors of his father first business venture, but apart from that, she’s a full time stay at home mom, supporting her husband’s startup business wholeheartedly. She’d been through hardships, but she was also the reason why his father was able to plunge into his new business without having to worry about his family. Her definition of marriage is conventional: one is the breadwinner, the other is the homemaker. According to her logic, if both parents are working, the household would be left unattended, the quality of living would deteriorate… and eventually the family would break apart.

 

Bucky can’t say his mother’s values are outdated, there are still young girls out there with the same thoughts. A knight in shining armor with a boatload of money proposes on bended knee, it’s a dream come true for girls who want to be a princess. 

 

“Ma, I hope my partner also has their own career,” the truth is Bucky is a busy man. He would feel the pressure if he has to go home to someone who is the exact duplication of his mother. “While I have my own job, I hope they’re also working towards their goals, pursue self-fulfillment.”

 

“If the two of you are so busy, who’s going to take care of the children…”

 

Next comes a long moment of silence on both sides.

 

“You do want children, don’t you? I hear that… egg donation, surrogate mother and adoption are very popular arrangements. Your father and I love children, I also want you to enjoy family life… James…”

 

Bucky, the man whose full name is James Buchanan Barnes, sighs, “The last topic was the single and unemployed neighbor next door, and now it’s about kids, Ma…”

 

“I know you’re busy. Have you arrived at your office?”

 

Bucky glances at the meter before him. He has been talking to his mother on the spot for three dollars. “Just another intersection. Ma, I promise I’m coming home for Christmas, if the single and unemployed neighbor next door is still around for New Year’s Eve, I’ll personally go over and give him your apple pie, okay?”

 

“It’s a deal, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you, I love you.”

 

He lowers his gaze to the back of the driver’s seat, aware of his mother’s cheerful tone and inevitable brilliant smile, he curls up his lips. “I love you, too.”

 

***

 

“I hate talking to an answering machine. This is the twenty-first century, why can’t you get a smart phone? At least get a computer, talking to this machine drives me crazy! Hiding away at your parent’s house is despicable, but it’s not like it’s too far away to get there. I will come all the way from west coast to chase you for your manuscript, even if that means spending Christmas with you!”

 

When the message ends, the blond sighs and hang the leash on the brass hook next to the door.

 

Very quickly, the dog settles itself comfortably on the sofa chair by the side. The only problem with these greyhounds with beautiful long limbs is that they love being a coach potato. They get lazier when it gets cold. He had to help the dog put on a pair of earmuffs and a coat before they went for a walk just now because the temperature has dropped.

 

Steve had adopted the dog from an association that saves retired greyhounds from racetracks to dodge the fate of being put to death. He doesn’t want to think about how much the dog had suffered to fulfill human beings’ selfish appetite for competition and gambling, he only hopes the dog enjoys a happy life with him, which why he named her Joy. Sensing the eyes of her human on her, the auburn dog gently lifts her head.

 

Steve doesn’t want Sam to really come and spend Christmas with him. Sam is not the same as him. Sam has his family with him, anyone away from home should go back to their families on that day.

 

But he just couldn’t find the motivation to draw.

 

Sitting next to Joy, Steve reaches out a hand to pet her until she curls up into a ball and falls asleep.

 

Coming back to the house where he grew up in, the place where the best memories with his parents are kept, he thought he could go to sleep with happy memories, but when he sits before his desk, staring at the piece of blank paper waiting to be filled with illustrations, he just couldn’t do it. Not even a simple draft, or a story board.

 

Christmas is just around the corner which means it’s been three months since he’d moved in to the old house that was surrounded by beautiful yellowing trees in autumn. The deadline of his manuscript has been postponed to god knows when, and the next thing waiting for him would not be Sam’s anxious e-mail chasing him for his manuscript, but a letter from the publisher to terminate their contract. Or a letter for compensation.

 

He doesn’t care. He has some money, he can pay for the indemnity.

 

Frustrated, he looks at his high school pictures sitting on the bookshelf. For some reason, he moves towards the shelf as if possessed, picks up a particular frame and stares at it.

 

The picture was taken for his sophomore yearbook. Then he bends down and takes out the yearbook from the bottom shelf. He still remembers many people in the yearbook: the eight or seven punks who had beaten him up, and of course, the top students who hated him; lastly, the footballers who used to kick him like a ball.

 

And there’s also… he turns a page backward and stops what he’s doing… there’s also Bucky.

 

Steve Rogers caresses the cheerful smile in the picture. Actually, from the window next to the bookshelf, he can see Bucky’s house. He knows he should go say hello to Bucky’s parents and try to see if he could get Bucky’s number or other ways contact to him.

 

Bucky was not in the same grade as him, Bucky was a grade higher and undoubtedly one of the coolest kids in school. Steve wouldn’t say Bucky was popular because there’s always someone more prominent than Bucky, there’s always someone more affluent than Bucky’s parents. When someone came to school driving a brand new Porsche, Bucky’s second hand Mustang seemed pretty low key.

 

They had made out countless times in the backseat of Bucky’s car.

 

Bucky used to say he liked Steve’s stubbornness, but he also loathed his stubbornness. Steve got to know Bucky, thanks to Steve’s tenacious refusal to take no as answer. He was insistent on participating in the tryout of the football team, and Bucky had told him that he was the biggest fool in the entire universe: Steve knew that the scumbag attitude of those people were encouraged by their third rate coach and the fact that he still wanted the man’s validation was just a fool’s dream.

 

Bucky wasn’t a member of the football team, on the contrary, Bucky liked rock climbing. The national park not far away from his parents’ house was where he spent his weekends. Bucky was also a volunteer at school, whether it be big events like carnivals, or small events like the tryouts, Bucky would be there to assist. That was how they met, or rather, how Steve first made acquaintance with Bucky’s back and neck because Bucky had to carry a passed out Steve to the health room.

 

In those days, school violence were not taken seriously, be it teachers to students, or among peers.

 

Those people in the football team called Steve names because he was short. Since Bucky had known him, every time, as long as Bucky was there, he would stop those guys from bullying Steve. The funny thing was: Bucky wasn’t one of the top students, nor was he a jock, and although he was good-looking, he definitely wasn’t the most popular guy back then, and even so, those guys actually played ball with him.

 

But each time after Bucky had succeeded in intervening on his behalf, Steve would get mad at him. “I can get by on my own,”

 

Bucky didn’t think so. At first, he would just smile and let it slide, but after they were officially together, Bucky would get angry and upset.

 

Yet Steve still continued in his own way, and when Bucky told him that he was going to college in the northeastern, their relationship just ended, without a reason; moreover, Steve had chosen a college on the East Coast in the following year. In a time without cell phones and internet, that was as good as saying goodbye forever.

 

Locking his memories away, Steve goes to the kitchen and opens the bucket that contains Joy’s dry food. He scoops a couple of big scoops and fills up Joy’s raised bowl. For a dog with long legs, it’s easier for them to have their meal like that.

 

Upon hearing the sound of dog food pouring into the bowl, Joy leaves her favorite corner in the universe and comes to Steve.

 

The sound of a car parking down the street disturbs the peace and tranquility of the suburbs, but Steve is not interested in probing into other people’s privacy. He changes the water in Joy’s bowl and let the dog enjoy her mealtime. He returns to his asylum that is the study, trying to understand what had gone wrong in the process that had prevented him from continuing this unfinished story.

 

***

 

Christmas morning. As the only member in the Barnes family who is not hungover due to over-consumption of eggnog, and also because he is a good son who fulfills his mother’s wishes, Bucky puts on the red and white plaid oven gloves, takes out the warmed apple pie from the oven and heads over next door to pay their new neighbor a visit. A jobless man who has a skinny little yellow dog.

 

Bucky has a lot of emotions for that house.

 

It used to belong to the Rogers. He was told that Mr. and Mrs. Rogers had moved to Florida after their retirement five years ago. After all, Steve hardly comes back to this, according to most youngsters, bored as hell neighborhood, when he had graduated from high school and left home. Bucky was told that the couple had travelled across the States to visit Steve, it wouldn’t come as a surprise if they wanted to move to somewhere else.

 

The exterior of the Rogers’ house is beautiful. The house is a two-story architect with a small attic and the exterior paint job of the house is well maintained. Reportedly, if a for sale sign is erected in the front yard, the house would be sold in two days. Who would have imagined five years ago when the economy hit rock bottom, the real estate market was in bad shape. 

 

Bucky doesn’t want to sound like a businessman, but he’s been working on Wall Street for too long, so long that he had forgotten how to carry a conversation without talking about money. He is the golden boy of his company: none of his clients have sustained any losses from the funds under his operations, third generations from old money families entrust him with their trust funds for investments, nouveau riche from Silicon Valley who had sold their shares ask for him. He is earning so much broker fees that he’s stopped checking his bank account.

 

Bucky has only one weakness. If his clients ask about his own investment plans, he would try to gloss over the subject because he had never invested in anything; neither had he dabble in real estate. He only has one accident insurance for his hard earned day off in the mountains. He especially loves the mountains, but people might never come back from there.

 

As he pushes the door bell, more emotions well up within Bucky. He had almost never make the apparent gesture of pushing the door bell of the Rogers. He used to pick up a twig or a small pebble and throw it at the window of Steve’s room, and the two of them would sneak out to somewhere secluded for their dates.

 

They hung out in his Mustang most of the times… Bucky would lift his legs and place them on the driver’s seat and front passenger seat, while Steve Rogers settled himself between his legs and moved inside him again and again.

 

Bucky smiles bitterly. It’s just too pathetic. If his mother finds out that he’s unwilling to date anyone else even when he’s already out, that he refuses to talk about marriage even when same sex marriage is legalized in the country, all because of that scrawny little kid next door, she would most likely be disappointed. After all, according to her description over the phone, the man who is now living in the Rogers’ house has short hair and wears a white sweater; he is tall and muscular with broad shoulders, he stands tall and straight, as if he’s a model who just walked out of a magazine.

 

It’s not that Bucky prefers skinny guy, he’s human, he’s also attracted to beautiful men.

 

So why not give it a try? Even if it’s just to make his mother happy, or have something to talk about with his family afterwards, he could come over and press the door bell. It’s no big deal.

 

If there’s a dog in the house, it’s not barking. For a moment, Bucky thought perhaps there’s no one home. He’s about to turn and leave when he hears footsteps getting nearer to the door. The moment when the door opens, the snout of a light auburn greyhound is the first to appear at the door. Bucky knows this kind of dog is used in races, it’s probably due to its color that his parents did not recognize the dog they see on Greyhound buses.

 

Behind the dog is a man, and that reminds Bucky of his second weakness in this world.

 

Bucky knew he’s gay when he was around eleven or twelve year old, and as he grows older, he realizes that if he wants happiness, he has to work twice as hard as everyone. He is uncertain how much tolerance society has for his sexuality, if he wants a stable life, he has to become the person who is worthy of it. Stability is the most invaluable stage of life and in order to achieve stability, one must first withstand tribulation.

 

Steve Rogers has always been his cross to bear.

 

They were young and naive, and they both believed that they were each other’s one and only, which led to him and Steve Rogers having numerous dangerous sex. When he’s older, Bucky is surprised by his audacity and thoughtlessness when he thinks back on those days in the deep of night. He does not regret anything, but he also knows that he won’t repeat the same mistakes again. Not for fear of diseases, but because he could never give anyone the same level of trust.

 

Right now he is in the rare state of equilibrium. His family is stable, his job is stable—even his love life, however hollow it is, is stable.

 

But everything is instantaneously overturned because Steve Rogers is standing right before him.

 

Absurdly, Bucky realizes the first thought that comes to his mind is to get his parents, who take pride in their unaffected, excellent eye sight, each a pair of glasses with accurate prescriptions. How could they not tell that the handsome and well-dressed neighbor, the man who walks his dog in the mountains at the back several times everyday is Steve Rogers?

 

The only reaction from Steve Rogers since his blue eyes fell on Bucky is just widen his eyes further, even the dog walking in circles by his legs fails to attract his attention. Warmth rises from the apple pie in Bucky’s hands, transforming into tendrils of white steams, silently fulfilling his wish to touch the other man. It may have been heartbeat of silence, but it contains the fourteen years of void between them.

 

“Merry Christmas…” holding the apple pie slightly higher, Bucky clears his throat that has, for reason unknown, become a little hoarse. “Mr. Rogers…”


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Rogers. For a moment Steve thought he’d heard wrong. “… Bucky,” Just when he’s about to take the apple pie, Bucky moves away the baking tray.

 

“It’s piping hot, I warmed it this morning,” Bucky’s eyes fall on Joy, who is standing between them. “Your dog is beautiful, what’s its name?”

 

“Joy,” Steve replies quickly as he presses his back against the door to allow extra space in the hallway for the brunet to come in. “You can put it on the table.”

 

But Bucky doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence and walks directly into the house. Bucky remembers exactly where the dining table is. All the way inside the house is the dining room that has a view to the backyard. Bucky had spent one night here when his parents weren’t home. When he woke up in the morning, he told Steve that he had seen a wild rabbit jumping across the lawn of the backyard.

 

Bucky is still wearing the huge oven gloves after putting down the apple pie. He moves towards Steve unknowingly, but the blond takes a step back along the edge of the table. “I hear that you’re in the city now,”

 

Upon hearing that Bucky pulls the corner of his mouth. It is like a smirk albeit a forced one. “But I come back here often.”

 

Steve knows he means that he never came back. “… I can explain.”

 

“But you don’t have to,” the brunet shrugs. “It’s your freedom. We know some people never come back once they left, it’s not a bad thing.”

 

“Bucky—”

 

“—you’ve grown taller,” Bucky doesn’t give him the opportunity to complete his sentence, and starts another topic instead.

 

As long as Bucky is not leaving soon, he is willing to change the topic. “Yeah, I had some problem with growth hormones, I grew a few inches after taking some medications.”

 

“Just a few inches? My parents didn’t even recognize you,” Bucky’s smile grows wider. “Anyway, it’s good to see you. Nothing beats seeing old friends during the holiday season.”

 

Really? That explains why the Barnes never come over. He’s heard about the burglary turned home invasion that had happened few years ago, the neighborhood’s attitude towards strangers has become more austere since then. “Can we talk?”

 

Bucky’s smile disappeared just like that. “… what’s there for us to talk about?”

 

“We haven’t seen each other for fourteen years, I have so many things to ask you,” Steve swallows. His throat is tight, making it difficult for him to manage even one sentence. “I hear that you’ve been busy in New York, is everything fine?”

 

“Very fine,” Bucky hugs his chest, well-combed brown hair kept obediently behind his ears. Steve knows how soft his hair is. His hands had reached into them, caressed them lovingly when Bucky was kneeling between his legs, taking his arousal into his mouth…

 

Bucky can be both polite and cold at the same time. He does not take upon himself to end a conversation unless both parties has concurred, but he also does not participate with enthusiast.

 

Out of Steve’s expectation, Bucky knitted brows loosen a little, “… you’ve been living on the West Coast?”

 

“San Francisco, I draw comics most of the time,” scanning the room, Steve goes to a cabinet by the side and takes out a stack of his work, but he stops himself before giving them to Bucky. “Uh… I know you don’t like comics, so if you’re interested…”

 

Bucky frowns again. Obligingly, he reaches out and takes one of the copies. “Thanks.”

 

Putting the box of comics down on the chair next to the dining table, Steve gazes at the brunet who is looking at the cover—he is deeply attached to Bucky, so unimaginably deep that Bucky has no idea—when he realizes which copy he had picked up. Steve looks uneasy. “… wanna like to get another copy?”

 

Upon hearing the question, Bucky takes a look at him before returning his attention to the copy he is holding. “No, why would I?”

 

Because that one deals with dark topics. Seeing Bucky has already opened the book, Steve decides not to make further explanation and let him have a look at the content. Most comic artists work with writers from the publisher, Steve had worked with several of them, but his most well-known and most popular works are all written by himself.

 

The publisher had told him to try writing a special edition when they gave him the opportunity, and it was unexpectedly popular.

 

“Is this Homeric Hymns?” Bucky looks up at him after leafing through a few pages. “Steam punk version?”

 

“I thought it would be more suitable,” the first few pages of prologue has been flipped through quickly. “This topic is more…”

 

“I think it’s very creative,” Bucky’s tone is calmer than he thought and Steve knows it’s because he has yet to see the front profile of the heroine. When Bucky stops turning the pages, Steve couldn’t help but take a deep breath and hold it, waiting for Bucky’s comment after the pause. “… that’s me?”

 

In Greek mythology, drawing beautiful young men is not much different from drawing young women. Steve doesn’t reply immediately. He looks at Bucky’s notably matured silhouette, trying to search for his emotions under the ambiguous tone. “Yes.”

 

Bucky lowers his head again and continues to read the comic. After several scenes, when the protagonist takes off his huge armor, Bucky’s expression is a combination of bewilderment and astonishment. “Please tell me you didn’t base all your heroines on me, and you’re the protagonist.”

 

“No, actually, that’s the only one that I did it that way,” Steve smiles bitterly. “After that I feel…” If he has to cut his heart out so explicitly for the viewing pleasure of other people, he will soon drained empty. “I should keep my emotions to myself. Telling a story is more important than expressing my emotions.” Although later on he doesn’t know how he should continue the story. “I’m now taking a break.”

 

“So am I,” Surprisingly, Bucky does not put down the comic, instead he closes the book and waves it lightly in his hands. “Is this story completed? Or do you have others to lend me?”

 

***

 

Hades abducted Persephone and took her to the Underworld, and Demeter, the harvest goddess was devastated. From then on crops ceased abundance, vegetation wilted and died, seasons came to be. 

 

Under Steve Rogers’ administrations, the legend becomes a Victorian steampunk creation. Hades, the God of the Underworld surfaces to earth riding his majestic mechanic carriage and takes away Persephone, the daughter of the Commander of Grain and Growth. Persephone has snowy white ankles… he doesn’t find his ankles strikingly fair, Bucky puts down the comic book as he stretches his legs to take a look at his feet.

 

“You’re home, but the pie is missing,” the oldest of his younger siblings sits next to him with curiosity. She’s now residing in Europe and has returned for the holidays. Taking a glance at the house next door, she asks, “You’ve finally paid a visit to Ma and Pa’s mysterious neighbor, how was he? Is he like what Ma says, impressively majestic like a lion?”

 

Unaware that his mother alters her statement according to who she’s talking to, Buck smirks and goes back to his book. “Ma is right, the guy is definitely gay.”

 

“You slut!” his sister’s tone aggregates to a sharp shrill as she grabs his wrists firmly. “Butt naked with the man so soon? What did you do?”

 

Sighing, Bucky has no choice but to put down the book. “Are you crazy? There’s no way for me to go over to give the man a pie and then sleep with him,” He sits up on the couch and smooths away the hair on his forehead impatiently. “And I didn’t tell him straight that I’m gay, and then ask him if he’s gay, too, if he’s interested to be in a relationship with marriage in mind…”

 

Looking doubtful, the young woman lies back on the other arm of the couch, intertwining her legs with her brother, as if they are still seventeen or eighteen. “How did you know he’s gay?”

 

“He is Steve Rogers,” Bucky laces his hands on his head and sighs. “ _The_ Steve Rogers next door. Ma and Pa failed to recognize him probably because they didn’t get to see him face to face.”

 

Skeptical, Rebecca tucks the strand of hair on her cheek behind her ear. “But the house was sold long time ago.”

 

“Or maybe they decided not to,” Mr. Rogers was a judge with military background, while Mrs. Rogers was the Head Nurse of a hospital; they each have substantial pensions after retirement, it’s quite unlikely that they needed to sell the house in order to retire in Florida. “Anyway, I did as Ma requested and sent the pie over, ascertained the ins and outs, and talked a little.”

 

“Wait…” his dear sister has that doubtful look again and she’s now shifting very close to him. “… Steve Rogers is your ex-boyfriend, the one you lost your virginity—”

 

In a flourish, Bucky covers her god knows what else she’s gonna spill mouth, he glares at her. “You have to stop, Rebecca, stop doing what only high school kids do—rubbing people’s nose in the dirt.”

 

Pushing his hand away, Rebecca smirks, “Whatever you say, Bucky,” Her deliberate emphasis on Bucky’s name earns her his attention. “Admit it, someone’s life has frozen like time since  his last break up. There’s no proper closure, nor are there any new relationships.”

 

Frozen like time is Rebecca’s favorite phrase for him.

 

“And that’s not bad. You’re intelligent, always careful, Steve Rogers is probably the only pothole that can trip you twice,” there’s hardly any hint of gloat in her tone, which is very rare. “Ma would be so astonished if she knows that she’d compared scrawny little Stevie next door to a majestic lion.”

 

“I feel obliged to give them each a pair of glasses,” Bucky says nonchalantly. “His features have barely changed.”

 

“After all, you’ve been staring at him for quite some time,” playfully, Rebecca pulls at the band of her brother’s pants with her toes. “Those hickeys, you know very well what terrible things you and little Stevie did in your car back then.”

 

Nope. However close Rebecca is to him, she could never imagine the one who had his face buried in the backseat with his ass jutting out, begging, was him not Steve Rogers.

 

“On second thought, you didn’t trip on the pothole twice…” as she moves her feet away and tucks them in her furry slippers, Rebecca Barnes turns to look to at her brother who has once again picked up the comic book. “You fell into a rabbit hole and you tumbled all the way down; you never did reach the end, nor did you come out of it.”

 

Bucky raises his brow. Under Rebecca’s beautiful and faintly compassionate gaze, he doesn’t deny it.

 

***

 

Steve gets Joy to sit down obediently at the Barnes’ door before pushing the bell.

 

The door is opened by the only person who is not out skiing on Christmas Day. Bucky. Steve saw the Barnes getting ready to leave their house when he was out at his door to collect the mail. In a few strides, he quickly approached Mr. and Mrs. Barnes to say hello. A surprised Mrs. Barnes admitted that she didn’t recognize the man before her was formerly that skinny little kid, while the retired automobile AC factory owner nodded at him politely, leaving the job of pleasantry to his wife.

 

“… Bucky says he has a headache, so he’s not going skiing with us. Come by and check on him for me when you’re free, okay?”

 

Steve looked at the woman’s affectionate eyes and nodded in agreement.

 

And that’s why he’s now standing outside the door, while Bucky is looking at him by the door with a headache.

 

“Joy…” Bucky stoops down to look at the nervous auburn dog by his legs. The short haired dog is wearing a red doggie vest to keep her warm. “Hey…” Bucky stretches out his palm to the dog’s nose, waiting amicably for her response. “You’re so beautiful…”

 

Greyhound is not an especially passionate dog, some greyhounds are even afraid of humans. Steve is secretly cheering for his dog, hoping she could give Bucky the best impression at one go.

 

And Joy does not disappoint. She remains seated as she lifts her head to sniff Bucky’s hand, then she lowers her head as an acceptance of his goodwill. And just like that, both man and dog interacts at the door for several minutes.

 

Keeping his gaze on Joy, Bucky turns sideway and says, “Come on in, it’s too cold out here.”

 

With Steve’s permission, Joy steps across the threshold first and waits quietly for Steve to follow up. Bucky closes the door as Steve walks into the house. The first thing Steve sees is the huge Christmas tress that is almost two-third the height of the two story building. Piled up under the tree, are presents of all sizes, all of which are still unopened.

 

“The presents will be opened when they get back,” from the other side, Bucky offers him a mug of hot tea. Without a second thought, Steve brings the mug to his lips and takes a sip; almost immediately, scalded by the hot liquid, he moves the mug far away from himself. “… can’t you see the tea is hot?” Bucky is all at once worried and amused as he hands him a tissue.

 

“I’m nervous, Bucky,” taking the tissue, Steve gazes at the brunet before him. Bucky is still wearing the same outfit from this morning: a thin navy blue jacket clads his lean body, beneath the jacket is an ivory white V-neck shirt, somewhat revealing the outline under the clothes. Bucky is just as good-looking as before.

 

“Why should you be? Are you always nervous when you come over to your neighbor’s house?” Not waiting for his reply, Bucky turns towards the living room and lies down on the couch.

 

Right there and then, Steve’s brain is finally aware that Bucky didn’t go skiing because he really has a headache. Steve turns around and follows Bucky to the living room; he stretches out his hand to check if he may be coming down with a fever. “… you’re really sick?”

 

Bucky doesn’t reply, but lets his hand brushes over his forehead and neck. Light goosebumps appear on Bucky’s skin, quite possibly caused by Steve’s relatively cold hand. Worried that Bucky is not feeling good, Steve is about to retract his hand when Bucky takes hold of it.

 

“Bucky… I miss you all the time, but our break up was a mess, it’s my fault… I’m so sorry, I don’t know how you’re doing now… I don’t know if there’s any room for me in your life,” Steve can’t believe that Bucky has yet to meet someone better than him. It’s so easy. “… I choose to be single not only because I can’t forget about you, but also because you never left my heart. I hope I could make you stay, but I don’t think I can do it… because you’re too good—”

 

“You stopped working since you moved back to the suburbs, your editor wants you to relax and enjoy yourself during the holidays, but he also wants your work to get back on tracks after the new year,” Bucky grasps his hands and goes on to clear up his confusion. “I saw the credits. Sam, your editor, his wife was my classmate in college…”

 

Steve is hesitant as he looks at their interlocking hands, but he leans down and seals Bucky’s lips with a kiss.

 

Steve used to have to wait for Bucky to lie down in order to kiss his boyfriend who was a couple of inches taller than him. Just when he’s only moved his lips slightly away from Bucky’s, the brunet immediately grabs hold of his collar and pulls him back down. “You have to work… I don’t date an unemployed,” Bucky is kissing the corner of his lips. “But you must also move to New York… I have a spare room in my apartment, you can use it for your studio…”

 

Joy walks towards them, wagging the long, thin tail behind her.

 

Bucky shifts his gaze to her and reaches out to pat her elongated mouth. “Don’t worry, Joy, you’re included.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and kind comments, and thank you, Imbrian for writing such a sweet and wonderful fic.

**Author's Note:**

> this translation is not proofread, any mistakes is mine. that said, please feel free to let me know any grammar or vocabulary mistakes. English is the official language in my country, but i obviously suck at it.


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